


The K-Word

by BiJane



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/F, Mental Health Issues, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiJane/pseuds/BiJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Alison and Beth before the series started: how they grew closer, and how close they came to happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The K-Word

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a Christmas present for a friend, who wanted some Soccer Cop. I am not a nice friend to have. 
> 
> For some reason I can never bring myself to write happy Orphan Black. Ah well. Enjoy!

Beth always stared. Alison put it down to cop-stuff, training: part of her job was being watchful. That, and seeing someone who looked exactly like you wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence, or at least shouldn’t be.

For her part, Alison did her best to ignore it. Beth could be anyone. There was no need to dwell on the c-word.

Beth wasn’t exactly like her. That was a comfort, in some ways: in other ways, less so. Beth seemed to be having as much of an identity crisis as Alison when the wrong moods hit, but most of the time she seemed to be doing fine. She dropped the c-word like it was nothing, and was happy to stare.

Oh, she really stared.

“Could you cut that out?” Alison said, one day, after they’d finished a session of shooting practise.

Beth looked at her more than the targets. Somehow, maddeningly, she was still a better shot.

“Stop what?” Beth said: tilted her head with an ever-cocky smirk. She still met Alison’s eyes.

“That,” Alison said. “The staring.”

“Oh,” Beth said, “Didn’t realize it bothered you. I just like looking at you.”

“Look in a mirror,” Alison snapped.

She hated the words as soon as she spoke them. Beth’s expression slipped, cracked, for a near-imperceptible moment. Alison tensed, instinctively, as she did any time there was a reminder of their… unusual connection.

“Sorry,” Alison said, after a moment.

“It’s fine,” Beth said, quickly: unconvincingly. A pause: “You think that’s why I’m staring?”

“It isn’t?”

Beth stepped forward, and that was the very first time she kissed Alison.

* * *

 

Alison pretended nothing had happened, for a week or two. Too complicated, she didn’t like complicated. And even without throwing the c-word into the mix, there was Donnie and there was Paul.

And there was Beth. Beth did seem disappointed at Alison’s immediate insistence that it hadn’t happened, but she played along. That was one of the things Alison liked.

Sometimes Beth did go too far. She wasn’t the best when it came to boundaries: but she always knew when to back down, and she never made the same mistake twice. If that was a mistake: which it had to be, Alison kept telling herself.

Thankfully her meetings with Beth weren’t often daily. It afforded her time to think. Time to dread, or anticipate. That could have been good or bad.

They met in some drug den. Beth had cleared it out earlier: it would be a while before anyone came back in. Lesser-travelled places like that were the best spots to talk.

Beth pulled a couple of her pills from her pocket, slipping them into her mouth and taking a swig from a bottle of water to swallow. She closed her eyes, apparently feeling them fall down through her.

“Who’s staring now?” Beth said, blinking and turning to Alison. “What, you want some?”

“N-no,” Alison shook her head. “I don’t- Uh-”

“Relax,” Beth chuckled.

A couple of minutes were just spent basking: relaxing. These were the times they needn't fear.

Admittedly a ratty-looking room, a stained couch and a shattered TV screen were hardly the most idyllic of surroundings, but it was peaceful.

"So," Beth said, eventually: "You going to talk about it?"

Alison coughed. She'd been replaying the kiss over in her mind, as she had a few times. It was hard not to be reminded of it when so close to Beth. Beth's query was too much like being caught red-handed.

Not that she'd done anything wrong, Alison told herself. It was something she'd read about; memory triggers. The scent of breath bringing back the time she'd smelled it before. That was all, that was all.

"Talk about what?" Alison said, a little too quickly.

"What, you want me to spell it out?" Beth said: leant back and tilted her head to face Alison: "Or a reminder. Either's good."

"I don't know what you mean," Alison said, the squeak making herself wince at the obvious falsity.

"Sure," Beth said. "As you so kindly pointed out though, I stare. Notice a few things, like how you've refused to look me in the eyes since, well, that-which-shall-not-be-named, apparently. You really like adding omissions to your lexicon, huh?"

A few seconds of silence. Alison seemed remarkably fascinated by a peeling piece of wallpaper.

"Come on Aly, the k-word," Beth said, "If there's a problem, which there seems to be, tell me. Can't do much until you do."

"I know," Alison said, eventually. She hesitated. "You know what it is."

Beth shrugged: "I can see a few problems," she said, absently. "Which ones stand out for you?"

She shifted in her chair, lifting her legs until they were hooked over the arm, to better face Alison.

Alison still sat primly, hands on her lap, and legs together, touching as little of the room as possible. It might have been from a sense of cleanliness, or some paranoia at making her presence known.

And, after a moment, Alison found herself laughing, if briefly. Beth watched: smiled at the sound.

"That's one of them," Alison said, as her expression sobered. "You keep- you said you see a lot of problems, and you- you still..."

"K-worded?" Beth said.

"And then there's Donnie," Alison said, "And Paul, and this- this whole effing mess, it's not- we can't exactly..."

"You can say it," Beth said: teased. Alison blinked.

"Huh?" a pause, "You want me to say fucking? Is that really what's on your mind when-"

She was interrupted by a rather loud, delighted peal of laughter from Beth. Alison fell silent: frowned. It was still a few seconds before Beth's mirth subsided enough for her to speak.

"I meant 'kiss'," Beth said, "But nice there Aly. Good to know you have it in you."

Almost despite herself, Alison chuckled at that, cheeks flushing just slightly: as much from embarrassment as the praise.

"Don't worry about Paul," Beth said, more seriously. "I'm not too far from just ending things, once I figure out what secrets he thinks he can keep from a cop."

"And Donnie?" Alison said, "The kids?"

"Up to you," Beth said, "Just food for thought. Say stop and I'll stop, say go and I'll go. Just figured you'd want to know the options."

A pause: then Alison reached across with her hand. Handholding wasn't quite a k-word, but it was pleasant. Both of them would be glad to admit that.

And, at the very least, there were less complications attached to it. Just two people, c-word or no.

"Thank you," Alison said, softly. Beth wasn't sure whether she imagined it.

* * *

 

Beth was on a patrol fairly near Alison's neighbourhood: she'd asked for the assignment specifically. She couldn't say why; she doubted she'd actually run into Alison, and if she did they likely wouldn't be good circumstances. Still, it just felt nice to be close.

Beth had never been a fan of patrols. More often than not they just meant a few hours of sitting around doing next to nothing. They were the only times Beth caught herself actively wishing for a car accident, a murder, anything just to lessen the boredom.

And of course boredom led to thinking, and thinking led to dwelling.

Clones. She wasn't as anti-c-word as Alison, but that didn't make her overjoyed about the prospect. There were who-knows how many more like her, like Alison, like Katja, like that dreadlocked-girl... All out there, most hopefully blissfully oblivious.

She was Beth, she was her own person, and it was so very easy not to feel like it: to feel just like a fraction, or some splinter of a greater whole.

It was too easy, too, to feel like a lab rat. An experiment. She'd started having nightmares like that as well: poked, prodded like some toy or caged animal. Less than human.

A few minutes in those suffocating thoughts, and Beth caught herself. It was too easy to ignore when her mind was screaming for meds; quickly, she pulled over, before patting herself down, and peering into the pockets of the car.

"Shit," Beth muttered, patting her jacket again. "Shit," another curse. Either she'd misplaced them, or just forgotten them in the chaos of the morning, again.

Beth closed her eyes: let herself feel the hopelessness. It was almost relaxing to feel like that, and to just surrender. This wasn't going to get better, and she'd just have to get used to dealing with this. Living in this.

Or get up and wander out. Maybe walk to Alison's, maybe just get lost. She couldn't drive like this, she knew that. She'd probably end up crashing, probably intentionally.

Beth winced at the dark path her thoughts had taken. Her hands were still running over and into the surface of the car, as if her pills would magically appear again. She jumped when they found her phone; Beth lifted it, quickly dialling.

Alison looked after some of her pills, for any time she was in the area. It was Alison's idea: some way for them to not worry.

Beth had noticed, a few times, that there were a couple less than she'd left. She didn't bring it up. She wouldn't begrudge Alison her own coping mechanism.

"Aly," Beth breathed into the phone.

"Be- um, hi," Alison caught herself, putting on a faux-chipper voice.

She was with people, then. Great. She likely wouldn't be able to leave them: still, Beth wasn't sure what else she could do. She always felt incapable, when these moods hit.

"Do you still have some of my meds spare?" Beth said.

"Yeah- why?" the chipperness faded from Alison's voice. "Are you ok?"

"Can you bring them?" Beth said, ignoring the question. She gave the road she was on. "I mean, if you're not busy or-"

"It's fine," Alison said quickly, "I'll come. Hold on, k?"

A beep as Alison hung up. Beth stayed perfectly still for a few seconds after that, as if Alison’s voice was going to come through the dead phone. Shaking a little, she lowered her hand: dropped it on the dashboard, momentarily entertained as it slid to hit the windscreen.

She distracted herself by imagining Alison. She was probably at her ridiculous drama group, or something. She’d take a few seconds to think of an excuse, then go up to let the others know she was leaving. Walk out the door, down the corridor, find wherever it was she parked her car.

Beth knew not to expect Alison instantly. Travel took time; that didn’t stop it feel like drowning. Paranoia was only one symptom, but one of the worst.

She found it disturbingly easy to doubt that Alison was coming. Maybe she just didn’t want to talk, who’d want to? She was just a splinter. Alison made her excuses, hung up, and was having a ball, forgetting all about Beth in seconds.

Beth reached sideways: pushed a button to lower the window, inhaling the air deeply. It was refreshing, if not enough.

The phone rang again. Beth jumped, scrabbling over the dashboard to grab it, answer.

“Beth?” Alison’s voice, with some growl, some whir behind it.

She was driving: Beth knew the sound of a car. She spent too much time in one. Beth exhaled in relief, glad her paranoia hadn’t been vindicated. Memories like that she treasured: always remembered them, when things became overwhelming.

It rarely worked.

“Aly?” Beth said.

“I’m coming, didn’t want you to doubt,” Alison said, and named the road Beth had given: “You’re still there?”

“Yeah, Aly,” Beth said. “Thank you.”

Alison never disappointed her. Even with things being as awkward as they were, Alison still came: and still knew exactly what Beth needed to get by. Sitting around in just her own thoughts was the worst thing for her.

“I’m on my way,” Alison said.

“I can hear,” Beth said: chuckled. “On your phone while driving. You know that’s illegal right?”

“Wait, is it?” Alison said, quickly: “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Don’t hang up,” Beth said, regretting her quip. “Please,” a low voice, “I won’t tell.”

A lone second of silence. Beth knew Alison was still there, still talking, but her mind screamed at her that she’d ruined it. She’d hoped she’d have gotten used to that fear by now.

“I wouldn’t,” Alison said.

“Thanks,” Beth said.

She shifted in her chair, resting her forehead against the wall of the car, and closed her eyes. She hated putting Alison through this worry, she really did.

“I’ll just be a couple of minutes,” Alison said, “Hold on, Beth.”

“I’m trying,” Beth said.

“Can I do anything?” Alison said: “I mean, on the phone. I can turn music on, if that’d help?”

“Just keep talking,” Beth said, hesitated; “I like your voice.”

The conversation halted for an instant. Beth had just enough time to chastise herself before Alison spoke, a little more muted, a little less hectic.

“Thank you,” a pause “Uh, I think. Was that a compliment?”

“Oh, definitely,” Beth said.

Beth inhaled, relishing another gulp of fresh air. Breathing could be so invigorating. Still, it didn’t compare to having some form of distraction, some way to ignore her spiralling thoughts.

“So,” Alison said: hesitated. “Uh. Arrest anyone interesting today?”

Alison managed to inject some false cheeriness into her tone. She’d always been good at that: it managed to make Beth smile.

“Not yet,” Beth said. “Saw someone trying to break into a shop, but the car scared them off. Do have my eye on someone who’s using their mobile while driving though.”

“You’ve got your eye on me?” Alison echoed.

“Sure do, Aly,” Beth said. “Have to uphold the law, you know that.”

“So what’s going to happen when I park next to you?” Alison said, a playful edge entering her voice.

“Oh, you know,” Beth said. “Read you your rights, handcuffs, sit you in the back of the car. Can’t be helped I’m afraid.”

“We could always run,” Alison said. “Escape the law. I’ve got a car.”

“Trying to convince me to go all Bonnie and Clyde with you?” Beth said, “Always knew you would be a bad influence.”

Alison gave a rather incredulous snort at that, the sheer timing of which made Beth laugh. Laughter: that was good.

“No becoming outlaws, then?” Alison said.

“Not for now,” Beth said. “Think you can cope?”

“Sure I can,” Alison said, tiredly. Then, more lightly: “Can you?”

“Why Aly,” Beth said, teasing, “That sounds almost adventurous. Are you feeling ok?”

Instead of any voiced response, Alison replied by honking her car horn. Beth jumped glancing out the window to see headlights approaching.

Alison’s car slowed and stopped just behind Beth’s, and she hopped out, moving with a bit more haste than grace to the driver-seat window of Beth’s police car. She handed a sports bottle and small canister of pills through the open window and, muttering repeated thanks, Beth took them.

In the time it took her to swallow the pills along with a mouthful of water, Alison had made it to the other side of the police car, sitting herself in the front just next to Beth.

A few seconds of quiet. Alison kept her hands on her lap, looking from side to side a little uncertainly, not quite sure where to look. Beth still laid her head against the wall of the car, appearing remarkably wonderful.

“So. Um,” Alison said, “You ok?”

“No,” Beth said, shortly, before wincing. “Not really. Not yet. Very bad episode. I’ve told you how it is.”

“Oh. Right,” Alison said. She shifted. “How long do they take?”

“To work? Depends,” Beth said.

Another pause. Alison turned her head: regarded Beth. She was still in the same position, head by the open window, inhaling deeply.

Eventually, something in Alison’s demeanour changed, and her whole body shifted. Beth’s eyes opened a little more, to face her.

“That’s it,” Alison said with a firmness she normally reserved for her kids, and Donnie. “Move over.”

It was with an expression both surprised and bemused that Beth obeyed: sliding herself until she was much closer to the door. Alison, meanwhile, was moving from her seat over to Beth’s, just about managing to squeeze into it with her: she let one hand fall over Beth’s shoulder, in an embrace.

It wasn’t, necessarily, entirely comfortable, but something about it worked. Maybe the warmth, maybe the closeness. It didn’t dispel the darkness, nothing could, but it did a little at making it more bearable.

“Thank you,” Beth said.

“You’ve helped me enough,” Alison said.

It was an entirely different experience, hearing Alison’s voice when she sat (or lay, rather: this squeezing together wasn’t quite sitting) so close. More intimate. Beth tried to control her heart rate.

After a few seconds, paranoia and grey reared its head, and Beth felt a pang. She basked for a second or two in Alison’s arms, before speaking.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Beth said.

“Huh?”

“You don’t owe me,” Beth said. “The flirting on the phone, this… It means a lot, but you don’t need to pretend. I know you don’t…”

Alison didn’t speak. Beth tensed, fearing the worst. She exhaled, disappointed if understanding, as Alison moved her arm up, away.

Then Alison’s arm slowed, and her hand rested on Beth’s cheek: turned her head, until she was looking at Alison’s eyes. And then, without another word, Alison leant forward, and kissed her.

* * *

 

Being entirely honest, neither of them quite had a clue what the hell they were doing. They just didn’t want to stop.

They already knew how to meet in secret: all their meetings had to be. Shooting sessions turned into something rather different, however. And it was complicated, it was likely wrong: but it was theirs, and that was irreplaceable.

“Paul,” Alison said eventually.

Beth chuckled, lying beside her double.

“Way to ruin the mood there, Aly,” she said.

“I’m serious,” Alison said, “We can’t keep ignoring them.”

“I was rather enjoying it when we were,” Beth said, before her grin faded. “Told you about Paul though. I’m happy to leave any time.”

In a way, this new drama was almost refreshing. The relationship was more complicated than either would have liked, with boyfriends or husbands to avoid: but that was hardly new. And it was so normal it was laughable.

Guilt and envy were welcome companions. They were common, they were human. Neither had any cause to use the c-word for several weeks.

Alison had never considered herself much of a jealous person. She’d never really had cause to be: but now, she felt it. She was envious of Paul: he could be with Beth, and be so openly. No secrets, no hiding.

So, she could be jealous. Alison wasn’t sure it was a side of herself that she liked.

“And you?” Beth said, “How’s things with Donald Duck?”

“Donnie,” Alison said, by instinct. More slowly, she continued. “I don’t know. I still-” a pause. More firmly: “I think I could leave him, if it was just him. But it’s not, there’s Oscar, there’s Gemma…”

“So stick to this, then?” Beth said.

“Don’t see we have much of a choice,” Alison said: snapped. After a few seconds, “Sorry. So, you and Paul still…”

“Sort of,” Beth said, and hesitated. “It’s a long story. I don’t trust him, and there have been… things. I don’t want to worry you, I hope it’s nothing, but I don’t want him to be able to follow. I want to end things and leave in one go.”

An uncomfortable reminder of just how complicated things were. The c-word very nearly made an appearance: Alison exhaled, rolling onto her back.

* * *

 

Just because some of their meetings took a rather more intimate turn, didn’t mean they didn’t keep to the same activities they’d done before.

Beth used some of her police contacts: people she should have caught, but had decided to let go free in return for a few favours. The advantage of catching criminals, was knowing all their tricks: and she and Alison could do with some less-than-legal protection.

She made sure Alison know the handful of people who were genuinely good, if operating on the wrong side of the law. Contacts, in case she needed them: guns and the like.

It was partly for practical purposes, and partly for the rather adorable attempt Alison made at playing tough with them. The punk persona didn’t suit her.

They had guns, now: unregistered, of course. Though Beth had been teaching Alison to shoot for a while, she’d only recently decided to make sure Alison could get the right kind of weapon: it was always better to be paranoid.

“Watch and learn,” Beth said, hastily spray-painting a crude target on a tree. She ran back a few steps, until she stood beside Alison. “Cover your ears.”

They couldn’t afford to go to a proper gun range. Aside from being easier to trace, as Beth’s insistent paranoia reminded her, they’d attracted too many glances. Two identical women? They could pass as twins maybe, but Beth didn’t want to risk forgetting herself.

Alison lifted her hands, tightly covering each ear both with her scarf, and her fingers. Beth smirked: then turned, and fired a neat shot.

A bullet-hole neatly formed in the bullseye, only just off-centre.

Clicking the safety on, Beth idly tossed the gun to Alison. Jumping, Alison managed to catch it, wincing as though she expected it to go off.

“Don’t do that,” Alison said, breathless, staccato. Beth chuckled: Alison shook her head, smiling.

Beth pulled a pair of ear-guards from her bag, slipping them around Alison’s neck, while she found herself rather preoccupied with the gun in her hand. As many times as she held one, the ones Beth procured always made her pause.

It was partly their make, and model. They were far more streamlined, far more threatening than she liked: and, partly, she simply wasn’t used to them. She made a point not to keep any in the house, or remotely in reach of Gemma and Oscar.

Then, of course there was the illicitness of them. While she’d grown worryingly desensitized to illegality recently, it still gave her a thrill to realize she was handling something she shouldn’t possess.

“Ready?” Beth said, “Try for the inner ring.”

Alison kept the gun to her side, touching it as little as she could.

“Why do I need these?” Alison said, tapping her ear-guards with her free hand. “You didn’t.”

“Pardon?” Beth said.

“I said why-” Alison caught herself, giving an exasperated sigh as Beth started to laugh. “ _Really_ , Beth? Gemma’s outgrown that joke, and she’s _six_.”

“Pardon?”

Alison glared. The effect was only partially spoiled by her bright pink jacket.

“I’m used to it,” Beth said. “Don’t worry about it. My ears can take a little. Anyway, you ready?”

Alison hesitated: then sighed, turned back to face the tree. She shifted her posture, to the firing stance Beth had taught her. Arm supported, watch for recoil, firm on her feet, steady grip, steady hand.

She squinted, bit her lip: barely noticing how intently Beth was staring. A slight change in posture, a shuffle of her fingers: she gritted her teeth to avoiding biting her tongue from shock. Then she fired, jumping at the sound and tremor, even through the ear-guard.

She did that every time: still, she managed a very respectable strike, just a couple of centimetres from Beth’s.

Alison exhaled, relieved, just remembering to make sure the safety was clicked on, before lowering the weapon, and blinking. She turned sideways, pushing her ear-guards back around her neck, to see Beth staring, still.

“Have I mentioned how hot you look when you do that?” Beth said.

Alison rolled her eyes, handing the gun to Beth’s hand, where she trusted it more.

“What did you expect me to say?” Beth said, and chuckled. “It’s true.”

* * *

 

There wasn’t much Beth was scared of. That was part of being a cop: she was prepared to daily face what most people hoped they’d never confront. And yes, sometimes she got worried, sometimes her depression and fear and panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she always managed to pull through.

She could face criminals, thieves, killers. Beth was used to bravery.

But this… this was something she’d never imagined. She could never have expected she’d be talked into this.

“I look like an idiot,” Beth said, glancing over Alison’s head into a mirror, just after Aly fitted a headband.

“Shush, you,” Alison said. “Donnie’s away for a few days. I want you to meet Oscar and Gemma. Maybe they can teach you a little maturity. This is probably our only chance: just pretend to be me, they shouldn’t notice.”

Alison pulled Beth’s hair out into a ponytail, making the best of what there was, before letting it fall onto a floral-patterned shirt. She stepped back, tilting her head, appraising her handiwork.

“I’m still going for ‘look like an idiot’,” Beth said, still looking at the mirror.

She could have spoken for hours, it wouldn’t have been enough to say just how much this fashion didn’t suit her.

“I don’t know,” Alison said, thoughtfully, to her mirror image. “I think you look much better than normal.”

“You little shit,” Beth chuckled. Alison’s eyes widened, and she hopped forward, clamping a hand on Beth’s mouth.

“Language,” she scolded.

Beth’s expression rather quickly turned unamused. Alison apparently didn’t notice, leaning forward to fuss over a last few minor details.

“There,” Alison stepped back, regarding Beth. “You look perfect.”

“Never figured you for a narcissist,” Beth said.

“Hush, you,” Alison said; chuckled. “You can talk.” She placed her hands on Beth’s shoulders, physically turning her around. “Go to them. Have fun.”

Doubtfully, Beth went as Alison suggested, needing only a slight shove to leave the door. As soon as she was outside, she quickly shifted her expression to one she hoped looked fairly like Alison’s.

It felt forced.

Mimicking Alison was an odd experience, and not a comfortable one. She probably should have said something, but she didn’t want Alison to blame herself; it reminded Beth that she was a splinter, a fraction of some nebulous whole.

She knew that wasn’t true, but that didn’t help. She still felt it, and those feelings so often overflowed. The fact she was so easily able to take up another’s role, so able to just become another, it wasn’t encouraging.

Regardless, Beth pushed down that worry, that paranoia, burying it beneath a veneer of Alison’s mildly psychotic contentment. A smile, and adjustment to posture, and Beth went forward.

The clothes rubbed, and she couldn’t shake the feeling her headband was going to fall and cover her eyes. It took a surprising effort of will to not wander with one hand perpetually holding it up.

“Hi mummy,” Oscar Hendrix said, idly walking past. He barely looked up. No suspicions at all.

Beth inhaled: steadied herself. She could do this. It might be easy after all. She just wished she knew why Alison was so intent on their meeting like this.

Gemma was kneeling by a table, reaching for crayons to concoct a scrawl that Alison would probably find endearing. To Beth, it just looked like a splurge of countless shades; or, in short, a mess.

She moved to stand behind Gemma, looking down over the girl she guessed was, technically, her niece. Or daughter: she really didn’t want to think what Gemma being her niece would make Alison.

There was a bit more to the scrawl on the paper than Beth’s initial impression, she realized. There was some semblance of structure, or a design. A face? Beth wasn’t sure. She’d never thought police paperwork would be the easier thing to decipher.

Uncertainly, she stood there. What would Alison say?

Slowly, Beth knelt just beside Gemma. Gemma kept drawing, regardless. It might have been a stick figure, or a dinosaur. Kids were meant to like dinosaurs, right?

“That looks really good,” Beth said, trying an impression of Alison.

“Thank you mummy,” Gemma said. She still drew.

Beth resisted the urge to swear and ask Gemma actually acknowledge her. This still felt pointless.

Beth knelt where she was for a few minutes more. It was hard to tell whether or not this counted as natural behaviour, but Gemma didn't seem like a particularly worried person. She happily kept drawing.

It was sort of cute, Beth supposed. Disturbing too, however: it didn't help the sensation she wasn't herself. Now she was Alison. Sometime she could go back to being Beth, but that would still be a splinter.

No. Now wasn't the time for those thoughts.

"What is it?" Beth said, eventually. Hopefully that didn't sound rude.

"It's a bird," Gemma said gesturing absently to some ornament Alison had picked up who-knows-where.

"Oh yeah," Beth said, "I see. Looks very... birdy." Well, it didn't. Beth still felt rather convinced it was some kind of person-dinosaur hybrid.

Slowly, Beth stood. She could only kneel, staring at an indecipherable drawing, for a limited amount of time. She mumbled a goodbye to Gemma, tried not to wince at the 'bye mummy' she got in response, and took a few steps away.

Alison had opened her door a crack, waving for Beth to come over. Thankful, Beth obliged.

Undercover had never been her line. Her nerves always made it impossible: the particulars of this situation didn't help any.

Thinking about it, Beth could kind of see what Alison saw in them. They were amusing enough, in small doses. So long as they didn't plan anything hugely artistic for a few years, Beth could see some appeal.

Still, she felt an odd surge of respect for Alison, for putting up with the two of them for quite so long. A brief chat didn't quite go as far as having to live with and look after, with no day's respite.

That and the fact, now, Alison was living with a reminder of what she couldn't have, and of her c-word status.

For Alison especially, that couldn't be comfortable.

As soon as she turned away from Gemma (and saw Oscar wasn't facing her), Beth let her expression fall, and dropped the mask of Alison's mask she'd adopted. Her expression could only be called sombre when she left the room, and Alison quickly shut and locked the door behind them.

"So?" Alison said, after a moment.

She was almost vibrating. It was... unusual, so see Alison quite so engaged. More than anything, it reminded Beth of if she'd been shown, say, a movie, and Alison was anxiously waiting some judgement.

"Uh, so?" Beth said, taken aback.

"So, them," Alison waved her hand, voice becoming momentarily high-pitched. "How were they? Did you like them? Did they like you? Were they-"

"Might want to slow down, Aly," Beth said. "I had five minutes, tops."

"And?"

"And, five minutes," Beth said: chuckled, and pulling her headband off to brush her hair free. _That_ felt better. "Why are you so keen, anyway?"

A moment's pause. The sudden excitement seemed almost to leave Alison, falling away like water.

"I just wanted to know," Alison said, more muted.

"Know what?" Beth said

"If you could live with them," Alison said, softer.

Beth blinked. Alison's eyes widened, quickly, and she hastily went on, explaining herself in a rush. It took Beth a fair few seconds to look back and understand what had been said.

"I don't mean here," Alison said, "I mean anywhere. You'd never talked about kids, never sounded like you wanted them, so I didn't know, but I did and I do and Oscar and Gemma they're- If it's a choice between you and Donnie, I love him, but I'd choose you. But I'd choose them too: and I know we talked sometimes about getting away, Bonnie and Clyde, but I didn't know if you were serious, I just, I think I'd like that now. If you wanted to. And I don't know if we'd get full custody but Oscar and Gemma, they'd at least visit, and I don't want to never see them again, so I needed to know if you liked them enough to- Because they're my family, and you can't have me without them. And I really, really want to be with you, without all this sneaking and hiding and not-normal, I just want-"

It was when Alison, rather understandably, paused for breath, that Beth raised her hands. Alison didn't resume speaking, inhaling, exhaling heavily. Then:

"So?" Alison said again.

It was the least certain Beth had ever seen her.

"You're serious?" Beth said, after a moment. "Losing him, you and I..."

Sure, it was something they'd discussed. It had always felt like a joke, though: Alison was so dedicated to her normal life, it didn't feel like something she'd want to do.

Beth supposed it was flattering. Or she would think that, when she looked back. Right now, however, it just felt overwhelming.

But overwhelmingly good.

"Yes," Beth said, after a moment. "Yeah, I know I'd like that."

"And Gemma and Oscar?" Alison said.

Beth shrugged. "So long as you don't mind them picking up a few bad words, there's no problem."

"I-" Alison said, initially relieved, then pausing to glare. "A few?"

"Yeah," Beth said: stepped closer, to kiss Alison's cheek. "Can't expect me to watch my mouth all the time."

"Fine," Alison said: a reluctant compromise. "But I'm getting a swear jar."

* * *

 

Preparations had been made. Nothing official yet: letters drafted to solicitors, a little bit of subtle packing, but mostly planning. Alison could be up and out overnight.

She'd written a letter to Donnie. She couldn't tell him this, not to his face. She'd say goodbye to the kids, temporarily, and leave the letter for Donnie to find.

Beth had a friend who was willing to house them, for a little time, until they got their own place. It would be a hectic few weeks, but once it was over...

Alison found herself far more excited that perturbed. She could hardly help but grin any time she thought of it. It was like a lightness inside her: she half-expected to float away. That alone convinced her that this was the right thing: it had been a long, long time since Donnie had elicited that reaction.

And Beth got it with just a promise.

Alison played it over in her head, how it would go. A hasty elopement, a few less-than-luxurious, close days and nights, and then just her and Beth.

It was a getaway, from more than just Paul and Donnie. An escape from the c-word, from trouble, from reminders neither of them wanted. They’d be free of all of that: things could only get better.

Alison caught herself humming, a few times, in the days to come.

Hopes and promises played on Alison's mind. It was hard to have a thought not tainted with _soon_ , or hear something that didn't remind her of how she was about to get away from all of this. If anything, it reminded her of wedding nerves.

It was still on her mind when she was driving home, by herself. She was rather quickly dragged back to reality when she caught sight of a cop car in her wing mirror, indicating for her to pull over.

Uncertainly, Alison did so, parking in the nearest lay-by, frantically trying to think of why she was being pulled over. Had a tail-light gone without her knowing? No, it was too light, they wouldn't be on. She was sure she hadn't been speeding.

Alison was rummaging around the necessary papers she kept in the car, when there was a rap on her window. Alison jumped, gasping, and turned to look outside.

A laughing Beth stood there.

Alison rolled down the window, breathing heavily, and letting the papers fall.

"You-" Alison began, and exhaled again.

"Your face," Beth said: laughed, before turning, and nodding something to the police car. "Owe you one, dipshit."

Alison glanced into the central mirror, to see someone else in the police car, now that the car was closer. He nodded to Beth, before pulling out, and driving off. Beth waved him off.

"Could you unlock?" Beth said.

"Not if you're going to try and scare me like that again," Alison said.

"Boring," Beth said.

She chuckled, before running around to the other side of the car, letting herself in to the passenger's seat. Alison kept the engine off, waiting.

"Since when did you need a chauffeur?" Alison said.

"Since I got suspended," Beth said. She shrugged like it was nothing; "Art offered to drop me off. Convinced him to have a little fun."

"At my expense," Alison said.

"You dressed me up in that god-awful flowery stuff and headband," Beth said. "Consider it payback."

"Aren't you cops meant to have rules about revenge?"

"Sure," Beth said. "But we're meant to punish crimes too. That headband counts as a crime. You're lucky I don't put you in handcuffs."

Alison did her best to ignore the smirk Beth put on just then.

"Why were you suspended?" Alison said.

"Something went bad," Beth said. "Don't worry about it. Told you about the anti-c-word I found though, right? It's to do with her. But don't worry about her."

"Don't worry?" Alison said, "Why shouldn't I worry? With what the German's saying..."

"Just trust me," Beth said, "It's not a problem."

A brief pause. Beth was doing a remarkable job at playing happy, at playing unconcerned. Such a good job, in fact, that it was obvious to Alison that she was faking.

This suspension was hurting her more than she'd admit. Beth had always been proud of her job.

"Beth?" Alison began, slowly.

"I said don't worry," Beth said: then she grinned. "Besides, it's just a couple of days until we can escape this. Really Aly, there's nothing to be afraid of."

* * *

 

The day came.

Alison had a few essentials in a bag, at the bottom of her wardrobe, where no one would look. It would be easy to just pick it up, and leave. She had a letter on top, neatly folded, and elegantly written: and last night she'd put both of Oscar and Gemma to bed with an (admittedly ambiguous) goodbye.

She could barely sleep. She could barely look Donnie in the eye, for that matter. At least she wouldn't have to lie for much longer.

And Beth, she was happy. She had a later night, forgoing her meds to trust in her excitement. While she wasn't a cop any more, she needed to give a good impression. Her hearing was just a day away, and she'd likely be a little late, depending on how everything else went.

Still, it was hard not to worry: and as the night and the hours drew on, worry turned to guilt.

Did she have any right to tear Alison from her family? She'd initiated all this, after all. Her, a splinter.

And as the darkness swelled, guilt became doubt. What could anyone really feel for a splinter? She was a fragment, that was all: she could accept a friendship, she couldn't accept Alison willingly risking her closeness with her children.

There was that. There was Maggie Chen: there was Art, and how she'd convinced him to lie for her. He'd surrendered his morality, which he'd always held firm to, for a splinter.

Beth shook her head, wandering to the train station. She'd get a train home. The ride would clear her mind.

* * *

 

The day came, and nothing happened.

Alison kept her phone on her, at all times. Beth had promised to be down early, to call her, and take her to the friends she'd mentioned, who'd room them. The slightest sound made Alison jump, like it was her phone.

Nothing. Silence.

Where was she? Was there just traffic, some delay? Had she read the calendar wrong?

All kinds of possibilities whirled around Alison's head. But why wouldn't Beth have said something, have let her know?

She kept coming back to one thing: cold feet. That Beth didn't really want this, not in the end. And that hurt.

The first time she'd had that thought, she'd pushed it down, trying to ignore the ache it caused. But it resurfaced, time and again; bringing more pain each and every time. Lies. Impossible lies.

Eventually, Alison couldn't help but call Beth. Get answers.

She didn't respond. That made Alison only feel worse; feel like retching.

Beth, where were you?

And there was Katja, of course. The German arriving soon. Why did everything have to come at once?

Alison couldn’t say how many times she called Beth. How much she tried.  There was nothing, no reply, just waiting, just-

“Hello?”

Beth’s voice. Alison could almost have passed out from relief. She sounded different, but Alison couldn’t quite tell why. She didn’t care, not then. But ‘hello’, was that it? No explanation, no apology.

Alison did her best to steady her voice. To hide her confusion, hide her tremor.

“Beth? Where have you been?” Alison said.

Beth stumbled, at that. It was the first time Alison could ever recall Beth dithering, struggling to respond.  At least Alison knew she wasn’t the only person troubled.

“Long story,” Beth eventually said.

That was enlightening.

“Well?” Alison said.

Please answer, please say something. Don’t just act like this was all a mistake. You knew how much this meant to be, and I- it had to mean something to you.

“Well what?” Beth said. She sounded annoyed.

Alison tried not to collapse.

“Did you meet the German?” Alison said, resigned.

So Beth was going to act like it had never happened. Alison tried to ignore the hole in her chest, tried to ignore the ache. Just get through this, manage what call. Figure out what the eff was happening after.

Keep it together, Aly.

Even hearing Katja was dead didn’t hurt quite as much. It gave her an excuse to show pain though: and even with the betrayal she felt, Alison had to offer help. Beth was struggling, like she hadn’t seen death before.

She was struggling. That was- well, not good, but maybe it was an explanation. Alison clung to it.

“How about you come help me?” Beth said.

Alison gripped the phone, tighter. “I would if I could,” _I would if I knew why, if I could think of you without feeling…_

It felt wrong to be angry at Beth, but Alison couldn’t help it. _Why the fuck aren’t you saying anything_? She’d never considered hating Beth, until that moment.

Too much, there was too much.

“One step at a time, uh, I’ll call you back,” Alison said. She rushed through it, making her excuses to hang up.  

Then she dropped her phone, and she cried.

* * *

 

Alison called again, when she felt she had the strength. Beth was maddening, more than ever. Still no mention of their plans, and their failure. Just avoidance, and ignorance.

No reply. And after that effort, Alison gave up. She sent a message to Cosima, and asked her to take over.

Cosima didn’t know about them, about the move. Alison and Beth had kept their plans quiet: had something that was theirs. That, and Cosima was the one who’d had the bright idea of calling each other sisters, and her reaction wasn’t something she and Beth had desperately wanted.

Cosima managed to call Beth, but there were no answers forthcoming. Just more silence.

“Beth’s indisposed.”

_Indisposed_? What the hell did that mean? Alison left Cosima as quickly as she dared, not wanting to consider the possibilities. Did Beth not want to talk to her? Had she changed her mind? Was she-

* * *

 

She played with Oscar and Gemma. They’d always been the most important things in the world to her: and now, more than ever, Alison felt she needed them. She needed them almost as much as she needed an explanation.

Soccer games, idle drawing. She promised herself to be the best she could be.

It was something Beth had found oddly endearing. When she became angry, she became gentle. Soft-spoken, fragile to those who didn’t know her. It hid the shaking. Even Donnie thought she was milder, kinder.

It was better than freaking out. It was betting than coming clean.

And when she saw _that face_. It was Beth’s, it was hers, it was Cosima’s, it was Katja’s, and it was new.

“Where is Beth?” Alison said. Hide the trembling.

“She’s dead.”

That alone nearly pushed Alison over the edge, long past her soft rage, to something Beth would find more familiar. There was a knife close at hand. She couldn’t say whether or not she would have used it, but she needed to do something.

“I’m sorry. She killed herself.”

No. Beth wouldn’t do that. Alison couldn’t even say whether she was speaking aloud, just _no_.

No. Beth’s state wasn’t the best, she knew that. Beth had considered it, Beth had been close.

But she was meant to be getting better. And now- now of all times, she…

No please no.

The worst thing was trying to steel herself, to keep it together until she got home. Don’t let Gemma and Oscar see, keep the c-word quiet, don’t swear, don’t scream. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck no fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_

* * *

 

It was Cosima who suggested they invite Sarah. Explain things to another of them. Alison wasn’t sure how she’d kept it together, or even why she’d agreed.

And it was like a whole new start. A whole new group, a new them: and no Beth.

They moved on, but Alison couldn’t forget. She’d almost been free of this. 


End file.
